


red is a lovely colour.

by Lady_Talla_Doe



Series: Khlyen/Turin unrelated [2]
Category: Killjoys (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Edging, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Naked Male Clothed Male, Power Dynamics, Restraints, Shibari, captive Turin, noncon, s2 ep1 ish, sex with the enemy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:01:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23139688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Talla_Doe/pseuds/Lady_Talla_Doe
Summary: Turin spent some time with Khlyen, and wasn't turned. Au where the reason is he's Khlyen's little human sex toy for a bit.
Relationships: Khlyen/Turin (Killjoys)
Series: Khlyen/Turin unrelated [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1515395
Comments: 5
Kudos: 12





	red is a lovely colour.

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote at 3am on my phone, just needed something this horny to exist.

* * *

* * *

The room was cold, enough that Turin couldn't help pressing back into the heat of the Six at his back, his skin bare and cold in the dim room. Ropes, soft but strong, twisted around his torso, holding his hands firmly to the small of his back.

He'd given up struggling against them some time ago, moving with only momentary resistance into each touch. Their breathe filled the room; his fast and ragged, Khlyen's slow and steady, for all like he was on a leisurely stroll.  
It was at odds with their actual activities; Turin sat, powerless, astride the Six, body completely bare except for the crimson restraints, bare back pressed tight to clothed chest, legs forced to spread by Khlyen's own. Knees on the outsides of Khlyen's thighs; he twisted his feet, toes curling in pleasure as Khlyen thrust his cock into him again, making Turin bite his already bloody lips to stop the noises that wanted to tumble from them. 

Khlyen twined his fingers more securely in Turin's hair, letting the long red locks run through his fingers, savouring how soft it was despite the sweat- before clenching his hand in Turin's hair, and pulling his head back to Khlyen's shoulder, until the Killjoy arched his back, twisting his body and rising as far as he could up off the cock filling him. Khlyen held him there, savoring the sweet shake of Turin's tired muscles, the shiver in his thighs as he fought for his balance.  
After a long moment, Khlyen relaxed his grip, and let his prisoner sink down with a groan- a groan that pitched up in pleasure, as he dropped himself back onto Khlyen's thick cock. 

Turin shook, shoulders and neck red from their activities, nips and bite marks littering his fair skin, flushed with embarrassment, or exertion. Feeling generous, the Hullen took his prisoner by the hip, and set a slow, rocking pace. He brushed that lovely hair to the side, kissing the back of his neck, and reached down to stroke his captive, trailing his hand down his belly and walking his fingers over the ropes, but stopping at the edge of the fiery hair of his groin. 

Turin's cock lay half hard against his thigh, slick with the spend of multiple orgasms, thighs and stomach sticky with fluid. Sweat had darkened the silver hair at his temples, drops sliding slot down his pale skin only to get caught in the ropes, slowly shifting then from a bright clean red to a filthy sweat soaked scarlet. They rubbed marks against all that pale flesh, hinting at bruises that would rise up later. Khlyen traced one rope up Turin's torso, and slid the pad of his forefinger around the Killjoy's tight little nipple, hard and swollen from previous attentions. Turin twisted uselessly in his lap, succeeding only on grinding himself down on the cock that filled him so completely. He wasn't gagged, but aside from the occasional oath or moan, Turin had remained silent.

"You're so quiet, Turin. Nothing to say?" Teased Khlyen. This was more to show the man his place beneath Khlyen, then an interrogation; Khlyen had spies for that, networks. There wasn't anything Turin knew that he couldn't find out on his own. 

"Fuck you." The killjoy growled then groaned as Khlyen gripped his ribs and thrust up into him, hard. He savoured the way Turin's body clenched down on him, stroking his cock like a clenched fist as he pushed deeper, until the Killjoy's firm ass was snug to Khlyen's hips, cheeks pushed apart by his cock. 

He rather enjoyed the spirit of this one; the animosity, despite his severe disadvantage. The way he had cursed him out when Khlyen had first taken him had convinced him to keep Turin human, at least for the time being.

After all, only humans had the capacity for such delicious hate. It would be a shame to loose it to the change.   
He leaned in to catch the muted groan, feeling Turin's hands fist his clothing; earlier, he has torn Khlyen's shirt open, ripped three buttons free. But that was before exhaustion had set in; now Khlyen ran his hand down the outside of Turin's thigh, stroking his shivering flank like one might stroke a horse. 

His skin was starting to chill, despite the sweat rolling down him. Without prompting, Turin had begun leaning his head back, resting it against Khlyen's shoulder. He had plenty of fire left in him, but human bodies had limits. And his would ache for days from Khlyen's attentions, a thousand little reminders of how he had been used as little more then a cocksleeve by his enemy.

He reached between Turin's spread thighs, and teased a finger along his semi-hard cock, relishing the twist of his hands in his bindings, the pinched brow and fast breath. Khlyen could not resist shallowly humping up into Turin's tight heat, listening to the wet noises of his own cum slowly being fucked from the man. 

"One more time, then I will let you sleep. You can do it, can't you?" He purred, one hand on Turin's cock, the other on his jaw. 

Turning his face upwards, stroking the sweat from his brow with a mocking tenderness. Turin's eyes flashed, some of the fire coming back.

"Go to hells," he whispered harshly, voice worn but firm, and Khlyen chuckled.

"That's the spirit."

* * *

* * *


End file.
